#・・・・・★ Answered

[area-zero-rogue]

🐰 (her Pokemon!)

I made one for each because I could 🥴✨

[purinfelix]

Franco Colapinto, where his girlfriend gets jealous of his interviews, so she does everything to make him jealous in return.

a taste of his own medicine ⋆.ೃ࿔*･- franco colapinto

summary: you've had enough of your boyfriend's shameless flirting during interviews, and hatch a plan to get back at him for it w/c : 1.3k

a/n: AAAA this is such a cute idea anon - i wrote a good chunk of this a while ago but only just finished the last bit today, thank u for the req and i hope u enjoy !! <333

You wondered if your boyfriend could feel the stone-cold glare you were giving the back of his head from your spot in the VIP lounge - though if he could, he surely wasn't doing anything about it.

Initially, there hadn't been any problems with keeping your relationship secret - in fact, it had been your idea for a number of reasons. You just didn't consider yourself ready to be swarmed and scrutinised by the media or have the title of 'F1 wag' bestowed upon you. It didn't feel right, if anything it felt like a disservice to boil down your relationship with Franco to something so sensationalized. Keeping it private seemed the best decision, at least for the time being. But now, the longer you watched your boyfriend shamelessly flirt with anyone who crossed his path, the more you grew to regret this decision.

You weren't by any means a jealous person by nature, but something about the fact that no one but you had any problem with this situation - and only because they didn't know about your relationship - irritated you. If only you could figure out a way to make Franco feel the same way you were. Just at that moment, as if by fate, you spotted a young-looking boy in a race suit walking casually past the lounge. His carefree walk, curly brown hair and boyish smile - bingo.

"Hey there," you called out, hopping up from the chair you were sitting in and walking over to the boy.

"Oh, hello," he replied, seemingly taken aback by being addressed by you.

"Sorry, it's just that I'm a little new to all of this and," you look him up and down, "you look like you know what you're doing, do you think you could show me around?"

He laughs shyly, hand rubbing the back of his nape. "Well, I mean, alright then, I'm Ollie by the way."

"Lovely to meet you, Ollie." You offer a girly giggle which you try your best not to cringe at as you follow the boy, who begins to walk around the nearest garage.

He begins to explain things, the process of getting ready to drive, the roles of different team members and the physics of the car itself - all of which you could care less about, but you nod earnestly regardless. Along the way, you even offer any mechanic or engineer who seems your age a friendly smile, and even a wink if they're particularly good-looking.

It's just your luck too that all of this is happening just close enough to the media hubs where your boyfriend has been stuck all afternoon. You try your best not to look too often over at him, not wanting to give away the true intentions of this mini tour you're scored for yourself. He doesn't seem to share the same sentiment though, based off of how many times you've caught him stealing glances at you, his eye following watchfully as you laugh and tease your impromptu tour guide.

"And so every element of car design has the purpose of making it as fast as possible, either through aerodynamics or by making everything lightweight," he continues to explain excitedly, and even though you're starting to feel dizzy from all the nodding you give him a quick one.

"Oh, wow!" You say, and before you know it you've landed yourself in the perfect position - within both earshot and line of vision of your boyfriend who seems to be wrapping up one of his last interviews for the night. Now, for the cherry on top.

You watch as Franco finishes saying his goodbyes to the last of the media crew, his eyes now searching the paddock for you. Knowing that he's looking at you, you throw your head back in laughter at nothing in particular and bring a hand up to graze Ollie's upper arm. Though you have his back to him you know your boyfriend well enough that when you feel a hand on your own shoulder mere seconds later, you aren't too shocked.

"Oh, hello Franco," you hum, feigning innocence. "Ollie here was just showing me around and keeping me company, isn't he the sweetest?"

"Very sweet." He grins through gritted teeth, though his strengthening grip on your shoulder says otherwise.

"No problem, oh but hey I forgot to show you just one more th-"

"Thanks, kid, but my girlfriend and I have got to get going."

Trying not to make it too obvious on your face how pleased you were that your plan had worked, you thanked Ollie once more before you felt Franco's grip sliding down your arm and intertwining his fingers with yours. Desperately, he dragged you off and away from your tour guide - who had a slightly confused expression painted on his face as he watched the two of you disappear into the Williams garage. You were amazed by how quickly your boyfriend was walking as he pulled you into his driver's room, shutting the door behind you quickly.

"What was that?" he huffed immediately, not giving you a second to say anything. You only smiled in response, watching his normally calm expression morph into one of frustrated confusion.

"I told you, Ollie was showing me around, you were busy with your interviews anyways," you decide to keep up the act of innocence, though you can tell he's not buying it.

"Bullshit, what sort of showing around involves touching him."

"I didn't think you were watching, those reporters seemed to keep you pretty occupied," you say in a sing-songy tone, throwing yourself down on the couch in his room. You wait for him to respond - something equally sarcastic or quippy, but when you turn to look at him you see him staring at the wall in front of him, eyes furrowed in confusion. Slowly, the cogs in his mind seem to start working as his expression slowly changes into one of realisation.

"You were jealous," he breathes out, turning to you with eyes wide and brows raised.

"Oh pfft- I wouldn't say jealous, bored now that might be more accurate but-" You're interrupted by him taking a seat on the couch next to you, face now painted with a smug look.

"You didn't like that I was talking to so many reporters, did you?" His teasing tone is enough to make your heart race a little, though you try your best to keep calm.

"I'm pretty sure you were doing a little more than talking babe, you were flirting!"

He looks at you with a slightly offended expression, "flirting?" It's almost as if he's just realising what he was doing.

"Uhm, duh."

"Did it really look like that?" His brows curve up into a pleading expression, "I didn't mean to, I swear!" You let out a soft chuckle watching his apologetic expression.

"It's fine baby, just try to be a little less friendly next time - I think your PR team would appreciate it anyway." He nods, scooting a little closer so that he can lay his head on your shoulder. There's a beat of silence before he speaks again.

"You were jealous," he hums, almost as if he's talking to himself.

"Wh- so were you! Poor Ollie is probably terrified of you now!"

"Whatever, he's a big boy, he'll live," he sighs, reaching for your hand and intertwining it in his "Plus, don't act like you're any better using that kid to get back at me."

"Hey, I had to do something before you walked out of that media room with a second girlfriend," you crossed your arms in annoyance, refusing to even look at him.

"You're cute when you're jealous," he laughs, before turning to peck at your jawline. Before you can stop you're melting into his touch, bringing a hand up to brush his curly hair away from his face. It might be a weak apology to some, but to you - to be here with him, in the privacy of his driver's room, away from Ollie, the reporters, and the rest of the world - it's more than enough.

taglist: (reply/send me an ask if you'd like to be added!)

@spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk

[fascinationstreetmp3]

do you think love can bloom between a guy who looks like O_O and another guy who looks like =_=

[iwasdear]

I'm coming in with another thought about Matsukawa cus he lives in a penthouse in my brain and bro is not moving out any time soon

he did not truely grasp how big his meat was until he lost his virginity

sure he's not dumb he knew it was definitely something but not until he got a girl in bed did he realize his shtick was built different

and lemme say that did more than just inflate his ego, he was a changed man

And doesn't just slang it all willy nilly and expect his size to do all the work, he learned the motion of the ocean and was a certified sex god from that point forward‼

Not just cocky for cockys sake, he promises a good time and sure as hell lays it tf down too😼

On a similar note can I ask how you think all the seijoh 4 first times went? when? how? what do you think?

oh i definitely fuck with this thought, anon. he's not cocky just because he can be cocky, but it's because he knows he can be cocky. matsukawa isn't like those annoying mfs that are cocky because they think they're the shit. he is the shit. after that encounter where he lost his virginity, he became a god and nobody could stop him no more.

now, here is how i think seijoh 4z first time went ( with reader ) ★

oikawa had his first time at a party. since he's very popular, he gets invited to parties often. i feel like he def had no idea as to what the fuck to do, but i mean, you're not bound to knows when it's your first time, right? he was really excited about it, though, and spoiler: he came really fast! we understand, king. hormones are everywhere, there's a rush that's hard to ignore, its a first time sensation, how could he hold back? he had a round two after that because he reached his own high, but reader didn't even get to enjoy theirs, and let me tell you. his second orgasm hit him ten times harder. i know this messed up with his ego so he's been participating in every no nut november like a loser because he says it will help him last longer (it really doesn't).

mattsun had a pretty decent first time with a date, and it went absolutely amazing for both of them. the amount of stamina this guy has is insane. they met on a dating app, both of their profiles specifying that they didn't want anything serious, much rather looking for a quick hook-up. it was then when matsukawa realized his cock was in fact not your average dick. the fact that his huge buddy could make someone cry in pain fascinated him. my guy has morals so he held back so reader could adjust but god was his ego over the roof. ever since then, mattsun proudly carries a weapon between his legs.

makki had his first time in a damn club HANDS DOWN. unlike oikawa, who had the commodity of a (strangers) bed, hanamaki went at it in a bathroom. oh yeah. ngl i feel like he's a sucker for head, so they went with that first! he loved it, btw. lasted quite long but not too long, iykwim. then he proceeded to fuck reader on the sink. some clubs tend to have full body mirrors and my gut is telling this mf had a second round but this time full view on said mirror. the ones above the sink weren't it for him. out of the 4, i personally think makki is the most experienced. he knew what he was doing the moment they walked into that bathroom. if you're wondering, they waited for it to empty out and locked the doors and didn't let anyone in for a good two hours, teehee.

this one may be a little too biased because i love iwaizumi a little too much, and in my eyes, he's a gentleman. unlike the other 3, iwa had his first time with someone he was in a stablished relationship with at the time. it was actually quite romantic and beautiful and SIKE. hajime had his first time in the lockers. stressed from dealing with oikawa and his annoying fangirls, mattsun and makki holding him back from beating the shit out of his best friend, and just built up stress from other things. he was over it. the stablished relationship part is true. he asked reader to meet in the lockers a little earlier than the time practice usually ends because he heard from others (mattsun) that sex was a good stress reliever. by the way, iwaizumi was the last to lose his virginity. the gentleman part was also true because despite being someone who doesn't speak his mind outloud, my man still had the courage to confidently ask reader if they could do the deed right there and then. tbh i feel like he likes his privacy, and i mean, anyone could walk in any second, so they both went with the showers. great experience if you ask him, but he would NOT do it in an open space like that ever again.

© iwasdear | more thoughts are welcome!

[ang3lik]

Any Ethan headcanons u have??

𝐬𝐟𝐰 + 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

pairing: ethan landry x all!reader

warnings: mentions of porn, sex positions, masturbation, edging, praise, degradation and a spit kink.

SFW

this man is a GIANT like he’s six foot, beefy, and just large ;) but no fr every piece of clothing he borrows you like hoodies, flannels etc. literally drowns you because they’re so big

ethan isn’t a big social media person, he only has an instagram because it’s 2023 everyone has one, but like he doesn’t post and is barely following anyone.

some apps he definitely has:

you made him get tiktok so you could send vids to him.

he had snapchat but he barely used it. however you’ve had streaks for a while now.

has twitter for whatever people have twitter for and the porn sometimes.

his most used app is safari 😶

has letterboxd, reddit and 8 ball pool.

is a romance guy, but he’s not open about it. he’s very good at acting sweet and sweeping you off your feet. the shy, nerdy, geek act works very well.

loves the rain. especially at night in the dark, sometimes he can’t sleep but he’ll hear the rain and it makes him feel extra warm in his bed.

smells like mint. he either literally smells like mint, fresh gum or just straight cologne.

his room is his sanctuary. he feels safe and comfortable in there, surrounded by all his things, and as you begin to hang around in his room more, your scent stays, especially onto his bedding and sheets and he’ll literally just come home and face plant into his sheets and smell you.

isn’t a big massive music listener, but he does listen to multiple genres. he likes to listen to what others are listening to around him. he doesn’t always like the music chad listens too, but he does like the old school r&b he plays.

can’t cook for shit. the boys’ place is just full of snacks. this boy loves cheetos. will love you forever if you bring him cooked meals.

big horror movie fan. but has watched movies like the notebook and titanic and teared up and even laughed when you made him watch mean girls.

NSFW

very sensitive nipples 😭 (don’t ask)

is a switch, doesn’t necessarily like to be submissive but he just likes it where you share control, but he can be dominant at times

doggy is his favourite position

doesn’t actually masturbate a whole lot, probably like once a week

edges himself when he does masturbate

very proud of his physique, especially his arms, hands and stomach

very vocal in bed, i’m taking whines, moans, groans, also big dirty talker, praise and degradation !

not overly kinky, has certain specific possibly common kinks but not any weird ones or a lot

big on aftercare ! for himself and you, sometimes he wants to hold you but sometimes he wants you to hold him.

loves kissing so muchhh, there’s nothing more intimate for him, possibly has a spit kink too

[chosocutegf]

O'Hara with a chubby wife? Like dawg i wanna see him appreciate that chubbiness 😫 plus points she's always soft and kind to him which makes him fall even more

I'm so in love

I LOVE CHUBBY READER ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES TO MIGUEL ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა

It makes me think about Miguel fawning over you, looking at you from afar because he can’t help but keep his gaze on your plump curves. I think about him sitting on the sofa, while you’re in the kitchen, cooking or something, and he can’t stay focused on whatever he was looking at the tv.

When you turn around and catch him staring, he doesn’t look away. He is not embarrassed that you saw him gawking at you, because he wants you to know that he is obsessed with you. “Ven aquí, mi amor,” (come here, my love) he calls you, a soft smile when he sees you walking towards him with a raised brow.

When you stand before him, he looks up at you with pure love in his eyes, before resting his hands over your full hips and gently tugging you closer, guiding you between his legs. He rests his head on your soft tummy, and nuzzles his face there, sliding his hands under your shirt and pawning gently at your plump waist. He hums when you thread your fingers through his dark locks and closes his eyes as he relaxes against you. “What are you doing?,” you ask softly, laugh in your voice.

He lets out a soft playful groan, burying his face in your tummy before tugging you impossibly closer, almost making you fall if it wasn’t for you placing your hands over his shoulders. You chuckle softly when he mumbles against your shirt, “nothing, mamí, just appreciating you”.

A gasp leaves your lips when he quickly wraps his arms around your legs and moves you to the couch, pushing you to lay down before laying on top of you. You huff softly at his weight, squirming slightly to adjust yourself under him. Miguel groans against youand buries his face between your full breasts, a little smile on his lips at the plumpness of his new makeshift pillow.

“Comfortable?,” you asks teasingly, glancing down at him before wrapping your arms around his broad back and holding him close. He nods slightly against you, nuzzling even closer, “mucho”. (very much) You let out a soft hum before sliding your hand under his baggy shirt, scratching his skin gently.

You feel his grip tighten around you, squishing you under him as he relaxes even more under your touch. Soon after, you feel his breath getting slower and when you glance down, he is asleep. There is a smile on your lips when you reach for the tv control and switch it off.

can you hear me cry? ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

(m.list)

[sharkenedfangs]

What do I need to do to get a fic of sub crossdressing male pc begging Bailey to be their first time ( first everything really)? I don't even care about wether PC gets railed like we wish, I honestly highkey just want your take on it.

— ☆ “SIMMERING BENEATH.”

— sucks when your annoyingly bratty, yet pretty bastard of an opthan manages to get past your tight-held clutches, doesn’t it? mister bailey. 1.8k wc

— “the fuck do you want, asher?” : wrote this on the way back home, so on the sort of.. subway thingies, it’s not called that where I am, but they do resemble that and felt fucking nauseous, so apologies in advance if it’s shit. was too good to fully pass up on this one, though couldn’t turn it into a full-on lengthy one due to being busy with other current things. still tried to input every aspect you’ve asked for. yeah, may it be up to your standards then, anon.

Fucking fuck.

No, hell— that wouldn’t truthfully encapsulate the sheer idiocy of his muddled actions even then, because god— fucking shit, why would a man of the likes of Bailey — relatively known, if not factually remembered as the cold, logical one in town — stupidly fall for some mere trickery, childish ploy fabricated by your own stubborn whims? Or, to be quite precise, those pathetic taunts of yours that any man possessing the slightest nerve of a goddamn functional brain, wouldn’t have dumbly caved in to.

Talking about the depraved perverts that’d foolishly slip between the evidently, way too small cracks unfitting for their same, way too fucking large bodies — of the barely opened windows the dumb orphans would forgetfully leave behind. Shakily pawing with sweat slicked hands at some brat’s snoozing body before they’d eventually be chased off by the mere sight of his approaching figure inevitably barging in, hastily mutter on about their prestigious status and so on— fuck, never really truly listened to the shoddy bastards. How Bailey was no man to rudely kick ‘em out of the own crappy establishment he was sloppily running with a twinge of cruelty ever present in his cold gaze.

Yeah, he’s no damn better than those perverted fuckers right about now— possibly worse, but shit, no way in fucking hell will he potentially admit to that despite the cooling air annoyingly caressing his bare skin, sticky sweat clinging onto his flushed flesh nor the disheveled mess of his habitually, slicked back hair partially obscuring his hazy vision of this.. well, fuck— say it or not, admittedly, fucking hot sight shamelessly greeting him in return. Loosened, pristine white dress shirt untucked in face of this, to give forth to a discreet glimpse of one of the numerous tattoos snaked along the surface of his toned figure.

Slightest pout of your rosy, puckered lips he’d unconsciously find himself eyeing for far too long when thoroughly denied for the day by your daily, insistent questioning. Pop your cherry, you had confidently said with a noticeably excited shake of your fists. Might as well endlessly yap his ear off with that unrealistic request of yours— a pitiful plea that somehow, without fully realizing as to how and why — is currently happening within the otherwise narrow confines of his private office. Solely dedicated to calmly concentrate on each and every one of his gruelling tasks. Namely, neatly sorting out the thin sheets of paper openly displaying pertinent information to the numerous orphans residing here, registering the missing few that’d either go in running like some mindless moron or be plainly sold off to a godforsaken hell he held no genuine interest in— Fuck, fuck. You get the gist by now, there.

A well-deserved punishment is what this all is, simply was for that matter, and hah— you seem to be willingly taking it, although, can’t truly say he’s all that suprised. Brat. It’s what you are. Stupidly nosy brat who couldn’t hope to obediently keep his supple hands to himself for the shitty life of him. One that’d so ironically, perfectly fit all too well underneath the weight of his calloused palms restricting your bashful squirming— now contentedly facing the eventual consequences of your impulsive actions with a gleeful smile tracing your curved lips. Rhythmic squeaking of the wooden, chipped desk the man had sworn to fucking god, promised to dearly replace whenever was soonest possible and, well, he’s received his all-time excuse to be snidely given to those thugs.

A cum coated piece of furniture is just about a good reason to be neatly reinstalled with something sharper, newer— something along the lines of that, the bigger the better, probably.

Speaking of big.. Shit, he’s undeniably fucked.

“Don’t you fucking look at me like that, you ungrateful little bastard. I’m putting a roof over your head and a place to stay so— fuck, the least you can do is fucking pay me back on time, but can’t even do that, can you?” Habitually stern is what he’s evidently known best for amongst the nosy orphans, yet that usual bite in his gruff voice is almost.. pitifully lacking in face of whatever the fuck this is— yeah, actually he’s got a clue what it is. Inwardly cursing at how his hips automatically snap back in one sharp motion to then, merely slap forward— flush against your reddened ass. Riddled, fresh marks traced along the entirety of your curved back nor your spread asscheeks for that matter, shouldn’t be looking so infuriatingly pretty after all that harsh spanking he’s had you withstand. Take it as the start of your relatively tame punishment coming from a stone cold man like him, that’s what.

“Like what? A satisfied client? Hah— this is the best day of my life, y’know. Feels so fuckin’ good, Bailey— please don’t stop..” Of-fucking-‘course you’ve already had whatever comment prepared to hurriedly retort back within your noisy mouth, despite being so crudely bent over a flat surface like this. Particularly whiny moan drawn out at the feel of his thick cock satisfyingly stretching you full, sinfully defiling you from virginity itself. Pervertedly spread open with your dizzyingly warm, honeyed— fuck, did he really just think of your hole like that?? Must be losing his goddamn mind. Correct, your fucking hole is the one irreversibly altering his unwavering principles. So fuck you, really.

Sloppy, squelchy noises, all too annoyingly addictive to hear, of your tight, puckered heat fervently sucking his fat cock in, coating it all sticky and wet with your slippery, pink insides. Instinctively hissing at the knee-buckling sight of his veiny length repeatedly remerging and disappearing deep inside because shit— can’t get enough of it. So much so his rough thumbs are subconsciously spreading that tender flesh wide open for his unrelenting, stern gaze to gawk at. Not to mention, those frilly lines adorning that stupidly short skirt, bouncing in tandem with each ruthless thrusts slapped to your backside. Admittedly adorable, cute cock clumsily bobbing from the ruthlessly loud smacks of the caretaker’s fat balls sloppily slapping upon the flush of your ass, teasing— no, irrefutably taunting him by the subtle glimpse of your dribbling, wet dick peeking from beneath that skirt.

Like to play dress up, don’t you? Sneakily slip in those overly feminine, lacy garments the elder man would’ve notably poked fun at the sissies that unabashedly wore such clothings back in his day— ironically enough, now he’s finding himself, balls deep into said ‘sissy’. Meanly tugging at the silken material snugly encircling your flailing legs, neatly tied bows bound to predictably come undone given the unrelenting bounces of your shared figures. Unable to keep still when you’re being fucked or something?

Little, incompetent brat. Constantly managing to crawl underneath his skin, reach the deepest parts within him the caretaker has progressively learned to conceal beneath this ruthlessly heartless facade. Not that Bailey’s the nicest man to begin with, but hell— favouring a good for nothing, admittedly appealing to the eyes— meddling boy like you wasn’t on his fucking wish list either.

Should be crudely wiping off that joyous grin etched upon your features if you actually know what’s good for you. Though, doubt you will.

Fine. He’s not necessarily against doing the honours for you. Frustratingly fuck out the undeniable audacity ever so present in your every movements when carelessly distracting him during work hours— time meant to be initially spent for focusing and godfuckingdammit, merely thinking back on it has him obscenely gritting his teeth, further tightening his unrelenting grip planted along your — sure to be bruised later, which you’re naturally paying the price of it — hips. Heaving groans mixed along with some curses which are presumably directed at you, if not at himself, that he’s uncertain of, really. All he’s stupidly conscious of is the undeniable fact that you might’ve coincidentally, if not intentionally, gotten him dizzyingly drunk off your previously undefiled hole.

Fuck, must be that then. Overly aware of what you’re currently doing to him, aren’t you?

‘S that it? Your admittedly, badly thought out plan simmering deep within your mind, happily tugging at his heartstrings in hopes of getting your mean caretaker to fuck your virgin holes full of cum? Well, all to say— you’ve graciously received what your bratty, stupidly pretty ass has fervently been desiring for all along, huh? Ain’t that right? So in return, it’s only fair that he greedily takes whatever he so pleases, whenever or wherever— that is of no importance then, whether it be comfortably settled atop his lap during office hours or slung along your knees to dutifully service him. “God, don’t you dare fucking move— just— just fucking stay like. Yeah, just like— hah, that.” Got no qualms whatever position that might be in, too caught up in the tender feel of your soft flesh underneath his punishing grasp to sluggishly catch on what’s spilling forth from his swollen red, oozing tip because.. shit, got him cumming— not just plain ol’ cumming, but mortifyingly enough, squirting prematurely too. Effectively painting your stretched walls in a sticky, white mess of his seed, inwardly cursing at himself for potentially letting things stretch on further than they were initially meant to.

Yet as ironic as it may be, his unwavering pride naturally beckons him in turn or is it the petulant whine longingly drawled out from between your rosy lips at the sole thoughts of your time together being cut short? Right— ‘course, what else would it be that’d have you miserably whimper so? Didn’t cum yet, did you? Obediently took his fat load sickeningly dripping free from your sore, used up hole without any sort of complaint, gaze momentarily flicking downwards to the pearly droplets of his cum progressively trickling down the length of your suspended legs laid along the precarious edge of his oaky desk.

Similar to how an opportunist excitedly pounces on every chance set before him— hah, he’s never been much like Eden to cowardly hide amongst the oaky, wooden trees to begin with. Huddle within the shadowy forest in a futile hope that mere distance might erase the muddled past; the foggy, far-away town altogether from their collectively minds.

Rather take part in the animalistic feast even if it would’ve eventually spelled utter ruin for himself, inevitable defeat one cannot simply crawl out of sheer will. And maybe, that said ruin, is delicately staring at him right in the face with a fucked out look stretch upon your features, pupils blown wide with a hint of saliva gracing the corner of your pouty lips that he— fuck, can’t help it, really— have his calloused thumb stroke at, soon swiftly followed by the immediate puckering of your overly attentive mouth suckling along the digit. Incidentally coating it in a slippery wet layer of your spit that you, of course, joyfully take advantage of by stifling a wanton moan right ‘round it.

Shit, going to be the goddamn death of him.

That eventually faith patiently awaiting for him, doesn’t sound so bad when your cum stained, little needy self is notably factored in that messy equation after all.

[asuyaka]

Heyy, idk if u're still taking requests or not but if u're not just ignore this!

TikTok really came to drag me down the Satosugu hole by the foot this week goddamn. Anyways, I'd like to request my favorite sad gay boys with a m!reader who's a effeminate soft boy and is usually pretty quiet and cooperative but the second someone says something remotely negative about the two m!reader is already throwing hands and burying the offender's head onto the ground. Bonus point if he's from the Zen'in clan!

No one's ever calling Geto's bangs 'weird' with m!reader around lol.

- '🌈' Anon.

★ - yes! reqs are open !! when the first (yippie!!) one piece one shot comes out s'when reqs are gunna close briefly cause 've got other things m'needa work on! (❁´◡`❁)

☆ - Satosugu x M! Zen'in clan reader!

Lulling chirping sounds sounded through the second-year classroom as the sun began to rise. The sound of sweeping and the screech of desks moving across the table sounded through your ears.

With a gentle hand, you plucked the dead leaves off the bouquet of flowers that usually resided on the window sill next to your seat; plucking off the leaves as well and shaking it so the petals could become more pronounced.

After cutting the stem so water could flow through them, you placed the flowers in their vase and put them in their designated position, a pleased smile on your face when you realized that was the last thing you needed to do for cleaning duty, even though it wasn't your turn.

The door slid open behind you as a tired-looking Yaga walked into class. His eyes widened for a bit when they saw you before his expression turned sour. "Good morning, [Name]. I thought Satoru had cleaning duty for today?"

You bowed politely in greeting. "He asked me to do it because he had to get limited edition crepes today."

Yaga sets his things on the table with an annoyed mumble. "Thank you, please make sure he gets to class on time."

You nodded as you left the classroom. The sun shone down on your face through the windows as you made your way to Suguru's and Satoru's dorms.

You pass by Shoko in the kitchen who was hunched over the counter making a cup of coffee. "Want a cup?" She asks, biting and finishing the remaining pocky in her mouth.

'If Suguru woke up a few minutes ago, he'd want some. Maybe Satoru would like some hot chocolate too.' You thought briefly before turning your attention back to the brunette. "Yes, please. One hot chocolate and black coffee."

Shoko grins at that instantly recognizing the order. "You've got it Mister Zen'in."

You wave goodbye and continue your journey. Suguru's dorm isn't that far from the kitchen so you got there in a short amount of time. You knocked, politely waiting for an answer.

"[Name]-chan? If it's you, you can come in!" Satoru's voice answered.

You open the door to see two bags of delivered crepes beside Satoru, who is painting Suguru's nails black. "See? Got some for you guys 'cause I'm such a nice person!"

Suguru rolls his eyes. "You only got them because you remembered flunking on cleaning duty."

You take a seat beside them, staring at Suguru's black nails. "Yaga says I should make sure you two get to class on time."

Satoru snorts, the tiniest bit of blue peeking out from his glasses. "Yeah, and when have we ever listened to what Yaga says?"

"You don't. Maybe Suguru, but I actually enjoy not getting punched in the head every time you do something stupid." You interject, causing Satoru to gasp loudly.

"Suguru! Do you hear this? I do everything I can to make sure you two are well fed and all I get in return is bullying!" Satoru whines as he sets the nail polish aside to let Suguru's nails dry and picks up the bags with a bright smile on his face.

Shoko kicks the door open with two mugs in her hand. "Here you go losers. Zen'in blink twice if they're forcing you to be here."

Suguru and Satoru stare at you expectingly, an exaggerated gasp when they see your eyes close twice.

Shoko giggles, patting the top of your head affectionately. "Yeah, I'd be scared if I was forced to hang out with them too."

She walks out of the room with a reminder that class starts in a few hours. Satoru brought out the crepes and immediately started eating them as he read the Digimon manga, periodically sipping his extra-sweet cocoa.

"[Name], why didn't you get a drink?" Suguru asks, picking up a crepe carefully so the paint doesn't smudge.

You shrug. "The place I normally get my drinks at is too far to walk in the morning."

Satoru looks at you blankly as he stuffs his face with more food. "I could've teleported, dummy. C'mon, road trip time!" He exclaims as he grabs you and Suguru.

"Satoru, no— you haven't even mastered it yet—"

You feel reality split and your stomach churns uncomfortably for a brief second before everything stills again. The sound of cars blaring runs through your ears as a familiar sidewalk reflects through your eyes. "See? easy!"

"[Name]? Are you okay?" Suguru asks, squatting in front of you with worry all over his face.

Taking a minute to breathe, you feel everything finally settle. You have no idea how Satoru can do that without throwing up. "Yes, I am... okay. Just a little disoriented."

Suguru shoots a glare at the albino who rubs your back apologetically. "Well, my apology is your drink! So come on, I wanna get back to the crepes before Shoko's fat ass eats them."

"Shoko doesn't even like the crepes you order. It's always too much sugar." Suguru defends, slapping Satoru upside the head as the three of you walk into the shop.

It's a small cafe situated inside a bookstore with soft Lofi music playing in the background. The three of you get in line. It's short, most likely due to how early it was but that only meant you could get back to the dorms on time.

You hear snickering behind you but pay no mind. After all, it was a public place, and whatever affairs other people had wasn't your business.

Then, you hear something about how a guy has his nails painted. In the corner of your eye, you can see them pointing at Suguru.

Either Suguru and Satoru notice and they don't care, or they don't notice. Either way, you weren't going to let them poke fun at your friend (boyfriend?) and get away with it.

"Is something the matter?"

They stare at you, visibly sizing you up. "Wondering why your friend has nail polish on, isn't that only for chicks?"

Satoru taps you on your shoulder. "Take it outside, don't want you to beat their ass and get banned, yanno?"

You acknowledge him but keep a sharp gaze on the two of them. "Giving gendered terms to inanimate objects is an extremely stupid thing to do. It is not on you, so why should you care what he has on?"

The implication of calling them stupid seemed to hit a nerve because a vein pops in their forehead and their fists clench. "Cause it's fucking gay. What? You like taking it up the ass too?"

"If a fight is what you want, then that is fine with me. Do not let your petty ideals and quite frankly shitty opinions mess up my morning."

They keep talking as you make your way outside. The instant the door chimes close, a loud groan rips through one of their mouths.

They hold onto their nose, now streaming blood and broken. "Dude, what the fuck?!"

"You wanted a fight, did you not? Now, I am quite busy at the moment so if that is all, then I bid you a good rest of your day."

As you were about to walk back into the store, Suguru and Satoru came out with your drink in hand. "Yo! Here, got the kind you like cause I loveee you so much!" Satoru kisses your cheek and hands you your order, especially as you like it.

"Thank you, Satoru. Would you like to go back to the dorms now?"

Suguru stuffs a cake pop in your mouth, handing Satoru one and eating one as well. "Thanks for... that, by the way."

"It's no problem. You are my... partner, after all."

Satoru grins as he latches onto the two of you again. "Teleportation time, let's go!"

"Satoru, no—"

[bokutosbabe]

I have no idea if this is where asks are sent but I am CRAVING some Oikawa or Ushijima figs rn 😍 OR EVEN DAICHI IM DESPERATE ID EAT UP ANYTHING YOU WRITE I BEG

AHAHA YOU FOUND THE PERFECT PLACE TO COME i love literally ALL of these characters but i chose to do ushijima since i’ve been wanting to write for him😻 i can always do the others if you want!!

Greatest in the League

a/n — i def put my own spin on this so i’m so sorry if it’s not exactly what you imagined😭🫶🏼 also made reader gn since a gender wasn’t specified . ALSO YES I MADE USHIJIMA OBLIVIOUS HE LITERALLY THOUGHT HINATA WAS GRIPPING ONTO BRAZIL BC HE WAS ON THE “OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD”

content — ushijima x gn! reader, ushijima and reader are married , fluff, set in time skip (at the olympics actually), secret relationship, honestly not much to talk abt, i think that’s it- lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis — Ushijima Wakatoshi, wing spiker and outside hitter for the Olympic men’s volleyball team, has a secret. Something only two people in the entire world know of, including him.

✿.｡.“ where’s the trophy? ”.｡.✿

one point.

one point was all that separated Japans men’s volleyball team from the champion title. a singular point that rested on Japans side of the net. Ushijima watched as the other team served

one. komori’s perfect receive- no one expected any less

two. atsumu’s terrifyingly beautiful set, every spiker they had running for the ball.

three. straight to ushijima wakatoshi.

the ball smacked against his palm, and boom. The other team had no time to even react as the wing spiker all but slammed the ball onto the other side of the court.

23-25

“AND JAPAN TAKES IT ALL!!” the announcers could be heard from the booth they were seated in. While the other team had shuffled off the court, the japan’s team was celebrating- many arms thrown around Ushijima, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

where were you?

The paparazzi had flooded the court, taking pictures of all the players while the giant trophy of the world’s best team was brought out, and yet ushijima needed to see you first.

“good job wakatoshi!” the males ears caught the three words, turning around as he heard your voice- spotting you standing at the railing that separated the many onlookers from the court.

“hey ushiwaka we need to take a pic with the trophy- hey where are you going?” he heard hoshiumi’s voice loud and clear, but his focus was on a familiar face in the crowd—yours. Without a second thought, he pushed through the throng of reporters and fans, his powerful strides carrying him swiftly toward you.

if there was one thing you hadn’t expected from ushijima after all the years of being together, it was this. you watched in awe as he came running over, the determined look on his face softening the moment he reached you. He didn’t say a word, simply enveloping you in a tight hug, causing many eyes and cameras to be turned towards the both of you.

After getting married two years ago the two of you had decided to keep your life out of the public eye, i mean- ushijima wouldn’t want his beautiful partner to get bombarded with all the questions that were sure to come their way, but as of right now he couldn’t care less.

ushijima wakatoshi was not a man of words, much rather showing his feelings through actions, so that he did. the star player leaned down before pressing a kiss to your lips, the camera flashes going off in the split second the two of your lips were connected.

“what’s with the photos?” he asked you as his hands rested on your waist.

ushijima wakatoshi was not a man of words, so when he had a post game interview with many bombarding questions about the person he had kissed, he’d decided actions would speak louder than words.

let’s just say, twitter and all news articles were buzzing about the outside hitters showing his left ring finger being adorned with a silver wedding band during the interviews.

✿.｡.“ he just comes running over to me ”.｡.✿

it’s super short and i actually hate it. i’m so sorry it took this long😭

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[lxnarphase]

i have an important question for all the toji fans out there

[area-zero-rogue]

💭 THOUGHT BALLOON — muse's personality

I tried not to make this just all quotes 😂

[purinfelix]

FELLOW FRANCO LOVERS RISE!!

Ok I’m not good at making requests but I think it would be cute if one of the interviewers wears an Argentina jersey and Franco is blushing and yapping in the media pen (and then he posts about it a million times like his handshake w Lewis)

good journalism ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ - franco colapinto

a/n: YES FRANCO LOVERS JOIN MEE i honestly love writing fics for this flirty little shit pls send more requests like this one eee it was so cute w/c: 922

It's all for the sake of good journalism.

At least, that's what you kept telling yourself - and all the other interviewers who were questioning why you were sporting an Argentina kit to a race that was being held in Singapore. Watching, buried in a hoard of other photographers and journalists, the race drew to a close and suddenly the crowd around you sprung into action. As drivers started trickling in, with tired expressions - some happy, others not, you resigned yourself to waiting. It was pretty clear you were only here for one.

He spots you as soon as he enters the media area, even though you're concealed by about a dozen other people. You watch as his eyes light up at the sight of the familiar blue and white fabric and he beelines towards you, ignoring the sound of others calling his name.

"Hello," he says, breathlessly with a beaming smile - you chalk the flush in his cheeks up to having just finished a race.

"Hi!" you spring immediately into interview mode, listing off question after question about the race. He answers them all as earnestly as he can, and the entire time you're watching him with an awe-struck look. The clamour and sound of camera flashes around you are drowned out as the two of you talk, and before you realise it you've forgotten you're conducting an interview and not just having a conversation.

"Well that's all the questions I had prepared, good job out there today, you did amazing!" you say, fully aware that you're gushing at this point but you're relieved when he offers you an earnest smile.

"Nice shirt," he points out, and you realise suddenly how keen he is to keep talking. You laugh, a little shy at being so openly acknowledged.

"I knew you'd like it!"

"Who's on the back?" he asks curiously and you turn around to show him, "Ah, Lionel of course, a woman after my own heart." You chuckle softly as he places a hand over his chest. There's a beat of silence when you honestly think he's about to leave but then he leans in a little closer.

"Blue looks good on you, maybe a Williams shirt next time?" He says it so casually it takes you a while to take in what he's saying - and to realise how boldly he's flirting with you.

"Ah," you let out, though it's more of a gasp than words, "I'll have to talk to your merch department about that."

"I'll be waiting," he beams, giving you a sly little nod before disappearing back into his garage. It's only once he's gone do you realise how sore your cheeks are from smiling non-stop. Letting out a shaky breath, slightly overwhelmed by how well that interaction went, you turn around to snake your way back through the crowd. You try to avoid eye contact with anyone but the other camerapeople only smile at you knowingly, and you can only hope some of them got good enough photos for you to remember this moment by.

It's only once you get back to your hotel room and open up your phone do you realise just how many pictures had been taken of the two of you - and how many of them were far better than 'good enough'. In one the two of you are deep in conversation, your brows furrowed in a frankly un-flattering way, him as perfect as ever. In another, you're both laughing, about what you're not entirely sure, but just looking at the photo makes your heart flutter. Your favourite by far though, is one where you're looking down at your notebook trying desperately to remember the questions you had wanted to ask him. There's a childish pout at your lips that you cringe at - but what makes it your favourite is the look on Franco's face as he watches you, cheeks flushed as his lips curl subtly at the corners.

You don't seem to be alone in this opinion either - at least, that's what you've deduced from the half a dozen times Franco has posted it. Clicking through his stories, you're taken aback by the fact that he posted more about your interaction than him scoring points - the photo of the two of you even becomes the cover of his post dedicated to the weekend. Looking at the post you're not even bothered by the hundreds and hundreds of comments speculating what's going on between you two. Instead, your attention is captured by the caption he's added to it - "A race weekend to remember, for more reasons than one."

It's a little corny, and you let out a soft chuckle as you scroll through the rest of his page shamelessly, though you're sure not to like any of his posts for fear of letting on too much. The two of you spoke once, and if you're being completely honest you're a little embarrassed to still be thinking about him at this moment.

Just as you're about to set your phone down though, it chimes with. a notification that makes your eyes widen - a follow request from none other than the man of the hour. The rational part of you begins questioning how he managed to find your profile or the professional concerns of a journalist and driver following each other. These concerns however do little to slow you down as you race to hit accept because at that moment the only thing you can think about is one thing - that he's thinking of you too.

[starryiguess]

Heya :)

I was wondering if you could write some reader angst with Boothill (maybe reader gets poisoned, injured, nearly drowns etc.)

Hi i0fty, thank you for requesting! Originally, this was supposed to be a short fanfic, but my friend 🕶️ wanted to collaborate too so you got a really long fanfic! Apologies for taking so long but I hope you enjoy it!

————————————————————————

Hurt! Reader with Boothill

Warning: Themes of anxiety, blood, guns mentioned, hurt no comfort, and ambiguous ending

Word Count: 930

🕶️ -

“Where are you going now?”

You sighed, eyes staring at Boothill’s hurrying figure as he scrambled to find the location of his lost hat. He’s so focused on finding it that he unintentionally ignored your question, but you already knew the answer.

“Son of a gun—where is it?”

You could see the panic in his movements, the slight crunching of the metal that made up his body as he flipped things over…very gently. The books you had set on your shelves were opened slightly, his eye peeking through the pages. At this point, he was getting delusional.

“It’s not here… dang! I could’ve sworn I put it here last night..” His hands rest on the table next to your bed, grasping onto emptiness with an expectation that the hat would appear out of thin air. After a few more minutes of slight panic, desperation, and finally acceptance, Boothill huffs as he sits down next to you. You felt the familiarity of cold metal against your skin as he held your hand. His eyes search for signs of sympathy on your face…until he sees his beloved hat upon your head.

Your face wasn’t showing sympathy, it was showing annoyance. The “I can’t come with you…and I know, but it gets crazy boring around here” face. Last night was therapeutic, and you’re too attached to your robotic boyfriend to let him go on these dangerous missions, not to mention the fact that your anxiety was going through the roof. Boothill’s mouth curls into a stupid grin, seemingly as if he was reading your mind.

“Missing me already, huh?”

You wanted to punch him, but you would just end up with swollen knuckles. Deep inside your heart, burrowed underneath everything, there was an ache. It was increasingly harder every time he went away to subdue this ache.. it was like a migraine that never completely disappears. You were scared. Scared for him, scared that he would go one day and never come back. Scared that his beautiful features would be painted in blood. Scared that his eyes would witness unspeakable scenes. Scared that he would lose his way back to the comfort of your home. Boothill is a mind reader when it comes to you. Still, you always found it surprising that he was so capable of pinpointing the exact emotions that were flowing through your being, but you know he knows you.

“Sugarplum, I’m gonna’ be alright. You don’t need to worry about me.” His filtered laughs filled the room with warmth. “I’m like, 80% metal, in case you forgot. Even if someone caught me off guard—which has never happened before— and got their puny hands on me, they would get a hard-“ash” punch to their head. See?” Boothill patted his “biceps” with a reassuring smile. Gosh, you were so in love with this cheesy man.

“Yeah.. yeah-you’re right.” You breathed out, anxiety melting away slowly at his words. “Just—hm. Just be careful, alright? I don’t want you coming back late. Twelve is the time you have to be back.”

Your words caused Boothill to laugh softly into his hand. You could see him laugh. You could see how he was struggling to comprehend his curfew. You could see sincerity creeping into his face.

“Alright. Ya’ got yourself a promise.”

Boothill’s fluttering kiss on your cheek was quick and sweet, but two seconds later he was standing beside your room window, one hand opening it up while the other tilted his hat as a goodbye. You wondered when exactly he swiped it off of you. Midnight. He should be back by then, right?

It was one in the morning. Midnight had passed and your shoes had already been put on. Your coat was stretched over your back, your hands slid into the sleeves. Your door was unlocked and you ran. You ran for the fear of never seeing him again. You ran with blurry eyes and adrenaline. You ran without thinking. You ran until the ringing of gunshots registered through your ears. You stopped running, and you could see Boothill.

“I found you.” Joy and relief flooded through your body, and you had a million things to say to him. But why?

Why was it hard to speak? Why was it hard to keep your eyes open? Questions rang around in your head. Was Boothill saying something? You couldn’t hear him. There was something wet on your face, was he crying? Your eyes are tired.

You decided to let them rest, just for a little while.

⭐️-

You shouldn’t be here right now. No. No. No! He could faintly hear gunshots echo in the room, but Boothill only focuses on you. A pool of crimson envelops your silhouette. Eyes closed. His hands have blood, your blood. He curses, or tries to really.

Disbelief. Anger. Fury. Boothill whips out his gun and starts shooting at the perpetrators. Splats of their blood are now on the walls. They stopped moving after a while yet he still shoots. The gun clicks from the lack of bullets in the chamber. Because of them, no, himself, you’re gravely hurt.

His eyes dart back to your unresponsive form. Boothill kneels down then carries you. Quick, but not too hasty to prevent the bleeding from worsening. His right hand on your shoulder, left arm under your knees, and your head resting on his shoulder. Boothill doesn’t know where he’s running to, but you need help immediately.

“You’ll be okay.” He doesn’t know if he’s trying to convince you or himself. His voice gets desperate and cracks.

“You have to be.”

[ang3lik]

WAIT WAIT.....

secretly being fwb with ethan but you get caught out by chad (obviously) AND THE GROUPCHAT YALL HAVE TALKS ABOUT IT????

"bro you would not believe what i just saw"

"what?"

"y/n and ethan are a thing"

"i fucking knew it" mindy would randomly message.

but you and ethan would be too busy to even look at your phones <333333

[chosocutegf]

Hello!! I am here with husband!Miguel requests!

How would he act towards the reader during different holidays like Valentine’s Day or Christmas? 🙈 What does he have planned?

I love this series! You’re doing amazing. 🩵

HIIII AND THANK YOUU, ur so precious ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

cw: suggestive

OKAY SOOOOO, the Miguel i’m imagining here is not the spider-man one probably (because at least he isn’t emotionally unavailable, sorry) and he would be simply a genetic engineer, working at Alchemax. He is pretty busy during the weeks, so he considers those festivities really important, and he makes sure to take days off so he can properly spend time with you.

For Christmas: he makes sure the tree is ready for the special day, presents are under it and the whole house screams ‘it’s Christmas!!’. He wants everything to be perfect for you, so if there is anything you want to do with him, he will probably do it. He also wants to spend time with your respective families, so he will organise dinners and lunches with them. On Christmas day, when it’s time to unwrap presents, he can’t hold back his laugh when he sees that you got you two matching pyjamas. (i’ll leave you check the photo, because it made me snort and I couldn’t help put it here, knowing that Miguel would demonstrate it what’s written on itshortly after)

For Valentine’s Day: he would be intense and passionate. Everyone knows that he is a big romantic, so he does all those predictable things. First thing first, you wake up with him waiting for you in the kitchen, a box of chocolate and a bouquet of your favourite flowers waiting for you too. He would use the excuse that it’s Valentine’s Day to keep you in bed and make love to you all day. However, for dinner he would take you out, not to a fancy restaurant, but to a little diner that’s special for you two. Maybe it’s because that’s where you met, or where he brought you for your first Valentine’s Day, and he wants to keep the tradition. He wants to show you how much he loves you and appreciates you, so he makes sure that at the end of the day, the only thing you can master to say is his name.

[sharkenedfangs]

— ★ “OH, SO YOU BOTHERED CHECKING, HUH? GOOD.”

— “just know that if you’re reading this, you’re reading this till the end. or get the rules in at least. please? please, fuck??”

╰┈➤ asher. | 20. | he/him | bi w/ heavy fem lean. | mdni.

╰┈➤ “what I’m into?” DOL. | HSR. | SDV. | ..yeah.

— ★ NEWEST WRITING? : — ☆ “PRETTY BOY.”

— ★ HEY, WHAT ABOUT REQUESTS? hit me with it and if it catches my interest, I’ll be of service as best as I can. just wanna ramble and chat? you’re free to do so too.

LET’S SET SOME GROUND RULES, ALRIGHT?

╰┈➤ Getting past the obvious, MINORS and AGELESS blogs will be blocked. I’m not here to be your daddy and tell you off for being a kid in an 18+ space. Got something displayed below 18 on your blog? Fuck off. No age either? Well, you can fuck off too. If I blocked you, y’know why.

╰┈➤ Take into account that I majorly write for male readers, sometimes gender-neutral reader if you’re lucky, so if you’re seeking for afab or fem, I hate to break it to you— we all have balls n’ cocks here. As for the characters? Any gender.

╰┈➤ I’ve written or probably eventually will— dark content. This includes all the nasty shit that parents vehemently reprimand their children from seeking. Y’know, pseudo-incest, non/dub-con, yandere, monsterfucking, piss— that’s right. piss to say it twice. age gaps as long as they’re adults, you name it. Everything that would’ve made a nun uncomfortable.

╰┈➤ “Does this mean you condone all of this?” Fuck no. Except for the pissing part. Piss on your bullies as revenge, I promise they’ll be scarred for life. ..That was a joke.

╰┈➤ “Can we be friends/mutuals?” Sure, if you wanna chat. My discords ‘johan.4085’ or we can just go raw in the tumblr DM’s if that’s more your thing. Whatever suits you best.

➛ HOLY FUCK, THE MASTER LIST? YEAH.

— ★ DEGREES OF LEWDITY. (DOL)

— ☆ “SIMMERING BENEATH.”

— ☆ “PRETTY BOY.”

— ☆ “BITTER SWEETNESS IS BEST SERVED COLD.”

— ☆ “SWEET LIKE NECTAR.”

— ☆ “IN THE IMAGE OF YOU.”

— ☆ “INTERLOCK YOUR LIPS WITH MINE.”

— ☆ “YOU REALLY ARE A FREAK.. KYLAR.”

— ☆ “WINTER FEVER SURE SUCKS, DOESN’T IT?”

— ☆ “IT SHOULD BE ME, YOU LOOK AT — NOT HIM.”

— ☆ “SPIRALLING CYCLE — I MEET YOU HERE, AGAIN.”

— “woah, read this far? I’m proud of you for beating the person’s average attention span. that’s real impressive.”